


better be comin' with no strings

by joshlersins (orphan_account)



Series: tumblr prompts [8]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/joshlersins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked: <i>“NETFLIX AND CHILL”<i></i></i><br/>anonymous asked: <i>“hi yes I sent in the Netflix and chill and just to clarify- I meant both prompt and a request to Netflix and chill with you”<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	better be comin' with no strings

**Author's Note:**

> ball is life  
> we made this as fuckboy as possible  
> i am highly amused and sort of ashamed  
> it's just 5k words of me making fun of fuckboys
> 
> im going to bed

“josh, this is fucking stupid.”

“this is the greatest idea i’ve ever had,” josh shoots back, cradling his newly minted ( _fake_ ) id in his hand as if it’s a newborn child.

tyler looks down at his. he’s only sixteen, looks about twelve, and he has no idea how josh expects to pull this off. no one would even think about selling anything to him. josh can pass off as _maybe_ nineteen, if he grows out his facial hair, but hardly twenty one.

they’re standing outside their town’s local liquor store, pacing up and down the sidewalk while trying to work up the nerve to actually go inside and pitifully attempt to buy something. josh is smoking a cigarette that he stole from his father’s wallet, tapping it against his lip while thinking. “are you coming in with me?” he asks, puffing out smoke and quirking up an eyebrow.

“are you kidding? i look like i’m twelve,” tyler scoffs. “they aren’t going to sell shit to me.”

“have it your way,” josh mumbles, tone dejected, dropping his cigarette onto the pavement and scuffing it out with the heel of his jordans.

tyler drags his eyes up from josh’s _pristine_ shoes (he swears josh cleans them about twelve times a day) to his basketball shorts, nike shirt, and snapback (still proudly carrying the stickers from the day he bought it).

“why are you wearing basketball shorts?” tyler asks, narrowing his eyes. of all the things wrong with josh’s appearance on that day, the one thing nagging him was the _shorts_. “it’s fucking winter.”

“ball is life,” josh affirms like it’s a well-known fact before disappearing into the shop. tyler knows for a fucking _fact_ that josh has only played basketball once in ninth grade, and he cried when he got hit in the face with the ball. tyler may or may not have thrown that ball. that’s not important, though.

he stands outside in the cold for about three minutes, awkwardly shuffling his weight from foot to foot and trying to appear the least like a mugger as he possibly can. josh comes scrambling back outside, tripping over his feet, pale-faced and empty-handed.

“where’s the beer?” tyler asks.

“let’s go before the cops show up,” josh mumbles hurriedly, grabbing at tyler’s elbow and dragging him down the sidewalk.

“i doubt they called the cops on a stupid teenager trying to use a fake id,” tyler objects with a roll of his eyes, but he heeds his warning and follows along at a brisk pace. “where are we going?”

“my house.” josh is nearly sprinting at this point, and even though tyler has a few inches on his height and longer legs, he finds himself struggling to keep up.

his house is about three blocks away but it feels like _miles,_ because josh doesn’t run for shit and tyler hasn’t practiced basketball in almost five months. they nearly collapse in the front yard, panting and heaving for painfully frigid air that burns their lungs. tyler leans on his knees to catch his breath and josh simply falls onto his back in the grass, sprawling all of his limbs out like a starfish.

“doesn’t your dad have a liquor cabinet or something?” tyler mentions once he feels a little less like dying, lifting his head up.

josh puts on his thoughtful face for about half a second before shaking his head. “he’d notice if we took anything.”

“netflix?” tyler asks next, straightening his back out and making his way for the door.

“netflix,” josh agrees. he lays on the ground for a moment more, collecting himself when he hears the screen door creak open. “wait, shit, i think i have some weed leftover.”

josh scrambles to his feet and pops into the house after tyler, slamming the door closed behind himself. he toes off his jordans by the front door, straightens out his tank, and heads upstairs to his room; tyler’s already in there, crouched next to the surround-sound stereo and shifting through josh’s collection of drake cds.

“you have shitty music taste,” tyler comments, and josh flips him the finger.

he flops down onto his unmade bed and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging through a multitude of unopened condoms and various other junk before grabbing at a plastic baggie of weed stashed in the back.

being the local drug dealer is probably the only thing brendon urie has going for him, other than fucking that ryan ross kid behind the bleachers of the school gym. josh has stumbled onto that scene way more than he’d like to admit.

he shivers at the thought of it, tossing the weed onto his mattress and pulling out rolling paper. he has no idea where his lighter disappeared to.

“ty, you got a lighter?” he asks at the same second music begins blasting through his room. he vaguely recognizes it as an older eminem cd he bought god knows how long ago.

tyler flops down onto the bed next to josh, satisfied with his choice, and hands josh a neon pink lighter from the pocket of his jeans. “pink? that’s kind of gay, bro,” he remarks.

“you’re kind of gay, bro,” tyler mocks.

josh immediately begins pouting. “i’m not gay,” he mumbles defensively, unrolling one of the papers and opening the baggie.

“sure, josh. when’s the last time you even dated a girl?”

“debby,” he huffs, not stating a time or date, carefully packing in the weed.

“josh, that was last year. for like, two months.”

he busies himself with rolling his joint so he doesn’t have to think of a response or admit to tyler being _right_. tyler sits quietly, a smug smile affixed to his face as he bobs his head along to the music blaring in the background. josh begins rolling a second joint and tyler slides off of the bed, searching for the xbox controller; he finds it under a pile of clothes stained with a mysterious substance he’d rather never think about again, shuddering slightly.

he turns on the tv, shuts off the stereo, and shuffles back to the bed, tucking his legs up underneath him and lazily scrolling over to netflix from the xbox menu. “whattya wanna watch?” he mumbles, picking at a loose thread at the seam of his jeans. at least he can dress appropriately during winter. josh is going to catch hypothermia one of these days, and tyler is not going to feel bad at all.

josh makes a noncommittal grunt, sticking the joint in the corner of his mouth and sparking it up with tyler’s kind of gay lighter. he passes the other to tyler, who presses it against his lips and waits. “light,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the screen as titles and pictures scroll by; josh groans in irritation, but leans over anyways and lights his joint.

“family guy,” josh pipes up, poking a finger at the screen. tyler sighs, long-suffering as it’s what they watch any time he comes over, but clicks on the show and drags slowly as red and white bounce across the screen. peter griffin’s sharp, high-pitched voice floods his senses all at once as soon as it loads, and it’s beyond annoying but josh fucking loves the show so he sits compliantly and drags on his joint.

the longer they sit, the more the weed kicks in, and josh is giggling at nothing as he takes the final drag and throws the roach across the room, aiming for the trashcan. it bounces off of the rim and lands in the middle of the floor.

tyler sighs again, sucking the last of the drug into his lungs before tossing his own. he makes the shot and gives a lazy cheer, melting against the sheets and ignoring josh’s disjointed whining.

“lucky shot,” he groans. “do it – do it again.”

“don’t got anything to throw.” tyler rubs at his lips and blinks at the fuzzy shapes on the tv screen, mouth feeling cottony and dry.

“i want,” josh begins a sentence, cutting himself off and thinking for a second. tyler looks at him curiously, running his fingers through his own hair – has it always been that _soft_? “pizza. want pizza.”

“can’t walk,” tyler mumbles, pulling at his hair. he wishes he had josh’s hair, cause josh’s hair is blue like the sky and it always looks so _nice_ and _fluffy_. he wants to touch it.

“gotta call.” josh fumbles around on the bed, searching for his phone but ultimately finding nothing. “ty. help me find my phone.”

tyler groans. he doesn’t want to move but he’d do anything for josh. and pizza. especially pizza. he convinces his pathetic limbs to work for him and stands up, looking around the room through his blurry vision. “don’t see it.”

“we hafta look for it,” josh explains, reopening his bedside drawer and digging his hands through all of the condom packages once more.

“ _joshhhh_.” tyler pads into the middle of the room, wandering aimlessly and pointlessly staring at random objects as if they’ll somehow find the phone for him.

josh trips over his own feet as he stumbles up from his bed, sprawling onto his stomach on the floor. he’s vaguely aware that everywhere hurts and that something rough is digging into his hip and his precious snapback is now lying on the floor next to his aching skull; tyler’s too busy staring at the tv to help or laugh at him.

he lays there without moving, listening to tyler giggle at some corny joke and smiling to himself when his pocket begins vibrating. he’s momentarily confused – why is his leg _buzzing_? – and works on rolling himself onto his back, fishing his hand through his pocket as jumpman bumps from the speaker. someone’s calling him and he’s found his phone. he swipes his thumb across the screen and jerks it up to his ear lazily. “h’lo?”

his mother’s voice drones into his ear. he listens the best he can with his drifting focus, chewing on his thumbnail absently and mumbling incoherently when she stops speaking for a response. “i gotta – go. i gotta go,” he mumbles, rubbing at his red eyes. he hangs up without waiting for any response and opens up his contact list, squinting at the screen as he looks for the number to pizza hut.

tyler drags his attention away from the tv to find josh on the floor, phone pressed up to his ear.

“josh,” he rasps, fumbling his way over to the bed and falling down against the surface, curling up in his blankets.

“tyler – ssh. i’m getting pizza.” he’s barely even aware that someone else is talking into his ear. “hello?” he asks blearily. “is this pizza? i want – wait,” he turns his head to tyler. “what d’you want?”

“pizza,” tyler replies helpfully.

“we want pizza,” josh quizzically cocks his head to the side. that doesn’t sound right but he doesn’t really know what he even wanted to say in the first place. “uh. a large pizza. sausage. and – and cheese.”

“josh likes sausage,” tyler says stoically before bubbling over into amused laughter.

josh frowns. “i’m not gay,” he groans into the phone’s receiver, pulling at his bottom lip. the other end of the line is barely suppressing their laughter, asking for an address. he prattles it off before ending the call, throwing his phone across the room. “ty, you’re an asshole.”

“you want my asshole?” tyler mumbles in confusion, poking his head over the edge of the bed and squinting at josh through red-tinted eyes. “but you’re not gay.”

“i’m not gay,” josh says decisively, skipping over the first part of tyler’s sentence, agreeing with a nod of his head.

tyler goes back to messing with his hair, tugging at the fluff and thinking about josh’s hair being sky blue, suddenly mumbling, “josh.”

“yeah?” josh asks from the floor.

“i wanna touch your hair.”

josh considers this, briefly touching it before sitting up and clambering onto the bed next to tyler.

he makes a happy noise in the back of his throat, shuffling up closer to josh and latching a hand through his hair. it’s soft and fluffy and wonderful like cotton candy. “does it smell like cotton candy?” he mumbles in a tiny voice, half to himself, pulling his fingernails against josh’s scalp.

josh’s eyelids flutter and he sighs. “dunno. you tell me.”

tyler grins, big and bright and all crooked teeth, tucking his nose into josh’s hair and breathing him in. he doesn’t smell like cotton candy, which is disappointing; he just smells like weed and axe and just _josh_. it’s nice and he could stay there forever, so he doesn’t move, just plays with sky blue and breathes him in, soft and light.

“doesn’t smell like cotton candy,” tyler mumbles, voice a little disjointed as he blinks open his eyes and meets josh’s hazy ones. josh giggles slightly, pressing his head up against tyler’s hand and closing his eyes with a tiny sigh. “you look pretty.”

josh barely reacts other than reopening his eyes, blinking a few times and smiling shyly at tyler. “thank you,” he whispers, leaning into tyler’s nails scraping gently against his scalp.

“you have nice lips.”

a beat of silence. tyler retracts his hand and josh thinks he might be leaving, tries to ignore just how disappointed that makes him. instead, tyler cups his jaw and presses his thumb against his bottom lip, revealing straight white teeth.

he leans in until all josh can see is the two dark brown pools that make up tyler’s eyes.

and the doorbell rings.

tyler pulls back slightly, hand still pressed warm and firm around his jaw, eyelashes fluttering. josh stares at him, his fuzzy mind fighting between wondering if tyler was about to kiss him and being over excited about the prospect of pizza. all tyler can focus on is how fucking beautiful josh is.

“pizza,” josh murmurs, voice cracking softly. he rolls off of the bed, stumbling to his feet and leaving tyler stranded in the middle of josh’s bed.

his socked feet drag on the carpeted floor as he pads through the hallway, clouded vision swimming. his hand slides around the cold doorknob and he shivers as he swings the door open, revealing a smiling pizza boy.

josh barely recognizes him as frank, one of brendon’s friends and gerard’s boyfriend. they’re in the year above tyler and him, but he’s got a sweet smile and a real lilting voice. josh likes him.

“hey, josh,” frank grins at him, slipping him a wink and gesturing at the pizza box he’s holding. “didn’t know you had a thing for sausage.”

josh cracks a lazy smile, ruffling up his hair. “i’m not gay,” he says for what feels like the millionth time that day, and frank rolls his eyes. josh mercifully misses the gesture, busy patting his pockets for his wallet. instead, he finds a crumpled-up twenty and figures it’s as good as anything, slipping the box out of frank’s hands and slapping the bill into his open palm. “keep the change.”

“thanks, josh. try not to get any higher.”

josh scoffs, closing the door with his foot. he pads back down the hallway and plods into his room, situating himself on his bed with the pizza box in his lap before nudging tyler’s shoulder.

“sausage,” tyler mumbles, sounding half-asleep before giggling. he makes grabby hands at josh’s thigh, snatching at the empty air. “gimme.”

he shoves half a slice into his mouth, groaning.

“josh,” tyler whines, slapping josh’s bare knee. “m’hungry.”

josh chews his pizza thoughtfully, squinting at the tv where netflix is playing the next family guy episode. “i need more weed,” he mumbles, swallowing roughly.

tyler lifts his head up enough to glare at him, snaking his hand higher up his thigh. josh’s eyes trail his movements lazily as he picks another slice up from the box, tyler’s thin fingers brushing the hem of his shorts. he shifts himself around, swallowing thickly, wide eyes locked on tyler’s.

he bats his eyelashes softly, pouting his lips and pressing his hand against his thigh.

josh caves, dragging his eyes away from tyler’s face and shifting slightly away from him, handing him a slice of pizza. tyler cheers joyfully, biting into it without hesitation and rolling onto his back. “oh my _god_ ,” he moans, nearly pornographic, and josh’s dick is _way_ too far interested in the way tyler’s throat works when he swallows. he pulls himself further away, tugging the pizza box into his lap to hide his now present and very inconvenient hard-on.

“where you goin’?” tyler mumbles, shoving the rest of his pizza into his mouth and chewing. he flops back onto his stomach, crawling closer to josh’s thighs and resting his chin on the top of his knee. he pulls the pizza box away from josh and snatches another piece, biting into it with his eyes locked on his.

josh swears he’s sweating as he presses his thighs closer together nervously, tugging at the suddenly too-tight collar of his tank. “is it hot in here?” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

“nope,” tyler says immediately, pursing his lips. he places the pizza box gently on the floor before rolling back onto the bed, laying his head directly in josh’s lap. he pauses once something prods him in the cheek, raising his eyes to josh’s _wide_ eyes and flushed face. it takes a second of thought for tyler’s high-stupid brain to catch on, and when it does, he grins widely, teeth bright and crooked and sharp. “what’s wrong, joshie? gotta problem?”

“tyler –“ josh whimpers, voice suddenly a lot higher than he’d like it to be, hips twitching uncharacteristically.

tyler blinks his bright, beautiful eyes up at him, nosing across josh’s stomach. “want me to take care of it?” he offers, eyelashes fluttering and pupils dilated, lifting his hand to press against josh’s hip. he slips underneath the hem of his tank, running his cold hand against josh’s overheated skin.

 _i’m not gay_ , josh thinks at the same time his mouth says, “yeah.”

he giggles, lifting up josh’s shirt and pressing hot, wet kisses over his stomach before yanking back. josh barely registers the disappointed groan he gives at the loss of contact, immediately turning into a shaky moan as tyler crawls into his lap and straddles him. he cups josh’s face, thumbs sliding over the stubble on his jaw, and staring so deeply into his eyes that josh feels like maybe he can see his soul. he’s not sure if he minds.

tyler grinds his hips down slowly, purposefully, pressing a chaste kiss to josh’s lips. josh gasps, fingers digging into tyler’s sides, hips bucking up of their own accord. he bites at the underneath of his jaw with sharp incisors, smiling wildly at the high-pitched squeaks josh drags out in response as he claws at the back of his shirt. tyler kisses him again, a little rougher, a little deeper, tongue pressing against his lips fleetingly before being replaced by more sharp teeth, tugging at his bottom lip.

thumbs press soft against josh’s warm cheeks before sweeping up through his hair, pushing sky blue back from his forehead and grinding languidly down into his lap. “oh, joshie,” tyler sighs, kissing him twice in brief pecks before moving back away, giggling as josh chases his lips.

“stop being a fuckin’ tease,” josh grumbles, clutching at tyler’s hips and rocking up against him.

“wow, language,” tyler teases, tugging at josh’s hair and dipping his head to lick a line up the column of his throat. he pauses to nip at his adam’s apple as it bobs against his lips, josh gasping in warm bouts of air, vision swimming.

“god, _tyler_ –“

“ssshh, joshie,” tyler whispers, placing his lips on the upturn of his jaw. he drags his hands from his hair to the base of his neck, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises while kissing up the line of his jaw. his kisses turn leisurely as his lips trail back down josh’s throat, hot and wet and mingled with scraping teeth as his fingers claw at the skin of his shoulders. “lemme get this off.”

he sits back on josh’s thighs, tugging the hem of his tank up his chest and over his head, throwing it over his shoulder. josh’s chest is flushed and heaving as tyler runs a hand over his skin, grinding down steadily. he tears his own shirt off and tosses it to the end of the bed, bouncing slightly in josh’s lap. hands on josh’s bare shoulders, legs bracketing his thighs, he grinds down against his cock and nips at his jaw.

“ty,” josh mumbles next to his ear, dropping his head and mouthing desperately at his shoulder.

tyler threads his fingers through josh’s hair and jerks his head up, forcing him into making eye contact. “hm, joshie?”

“can you – can you touch me? please?”

tyler snickers. “aw, are you close already?” he murmurs, petting through his hair and stilling his hips. “you can’t come yet, baby, i’m not done with you.”

josh groans, low and throaty, pulling away from the hand in his hair to suck a bruise into tyler’s throat.

“fine,” tyler sighs, moving away from josh’s teeth before gripping at his shoulders and pushing him down against the bed. he sits complacently on his hips, eyes dark and cloudy, a tiny smile affixed on his lips. he leans over and tugs at the waistband of josh’s shorts, sliding off of his hips onto the bed to pull them all the way off of his legs.

he takes his sweet time tossing them to the floor, watching josh grow steadily more desperate, writhing on the sheets and pulling at his own hair. he unceremoniously removes his boxers and throws them over his shoulder, hungrily transfixing his eyes on josh’s cock. it’s certainly not the biggest he’s seen by a mile and probably nothing to be confident about but he says nothing as he wraps his hand around it, thumbing over the slit and smearing pre-come over the head.

“ah, joshie, you’re pretty,” tyler grins crookedly, twisting his wrist and sighing as josh’s head falls backwards against the pillows. he rearranges himself so he’s laying between josh’s thighs, lazily jacking him off to the sound of his quiet gasps and moans. gently, tyler presses a kiss to the head and licks at his slit, watching through hooded eyes as josh’s jaw falls open with nothing more than a squeaky moan.

he drags his tongue up the underside, barely more than a little kitten lick, but it drives josh _wild_ ; he arches his back, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets, hips pressing up and head thrown back as he moans brokenly. “you’re sensitive,” tyler comments, smirking, mouthing around the tip of his cock softly. he sinks down to his base in a single motion, leaving josh trying to remember just how breathing works and trying desperately not to choke on the air flooding his lungs.

as tyler sucks him down, josh’s hips rock forward without constraint, the tip of his cock hitting the back of tyler’s throat, and it sets his nerves on fire. he swallows around him, bobbing back up to his tip and sucking hard on the head, tonguing his slit.

“jesus _fuck_ ,” josh wrenches out between gritted teeth, fingers clutching white-knuckled at the sheets, thighs riding up against tyler’s face. tyler hums softly, nose pressed to josh’s abdomen, tongue working along the underside and josh _writhes_ underneath his mouth, spitting curses and nonsense.

tyler pops off with a sucking noise that makes josh’s heart stop for half a beat, swirling his tongue over the tip. “is there stuff in the drawer?” he asks with a slight hoarse tinge to his voice, on a vague impression that josh is completely the type of boy to keep condoms in his bedside drawer.

as expected, josh nods, trying to keep his breathing in check.

tyler hums as he crawls up the edge of the bed, opening the drawer – and stopping. he lets out a low whistle at the stash, turning a sly smile to josh. “who are _you_ fucking?” he laughs at the embarrassed flush spreading across josh’s cheeks. “aw, pretty boy, don’t be shy.”

he pulls out a condom that fits and barely resists scoffing at the extra large one he stumbles upon, digging further for a packet of lube. it’s cute and fairly endearing, and tyler settles back onto the bed with a wide grin, packets in hand.

“are you doing this or am i?” he mumbles as he unbuttons his jeans, tugging down the zipper.

“doing what?” josh mumbles, rubbing at his red cheeks and trying to convince his blush to go away.

“i guess i’m doing it.” his tone makes him sound annoyed, but the lopsided grin says an entirely different story. he yanks off his jeans and boxers, straddling josh’s lap. he grinds down just to tease and watch the flush that josh had carefully been working on flood back into his face.

tyler tears open the lube with nimble fingers, coating his fingers casually like it’s a daily affair. josh wouldn’t be surprised, not with how today had been going for him.

“how many times have you done this?” josh asks timidly.

tyler continues to smile, reaching around himself and pressing the tip of his index against his hole. he never answers josh’s question as he pushes the first finger inside himself, a lazy sigh dripping past his lips, head tilted back.

jesus fucking _christ_.

josh watches with wide-blown eyes, unable to move or do or say _anything_ as tyler fucks himself on his fingers literally in his lap. “oh my god,” he murmurs disbelievingly as tyler adds another finger, blinking open his hazy eyes to grin casually down at him.

“like what you see?” he quips, mouth gaping open. he bites at his bottom lip, muffling moans as he rocks back onto his fingers, slowly adding another. twisting his wrist around, he brushes against his prostate and throws his head back, moaning so languidly and loudly that josh suddenly feels _filthy_ just watching him get off.

tyler giggles, bubbly and pretty, at the look on josh’s face. he retracts his fingers and wipes his hand off on the sheet, reaching for the condom. “are you ready, joshie?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he tears open the condom and holds it between his index and thumb.

“no,” josh admits truthfully, voice squeaker than he’s ever heard it before.

“too bad.” tyler grips josh’s cock in one hand and rolls the condom on his cock with a practiced ease that makes josh’s stomach jerk. he really shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he is at the current moment. “better get ready.”

he situates himself, hovering over josh’s dick with a confident smile and aligning himself. he sinks down in one fluid motion, bottoming out, and josh groans so loud he almost scares himself, hands flying up to grip at tyler’s waist.

tyler leans himself over josh, planting his hands on his chest and grinding down into him lazily. josh’s hips jerk up helplessly, fingertips bruising tyler’s skin as he pulls him down against him with a broken moan.

“i like it when you moan,” tyler pauses to whisper before lifting himself up and slamming back down with a cry, throwing his head back. his fingernails claw their way down josh’s chest, making sharp, angry marks that sting and draw tiny drops of blood to the surface. josh’s heart hammers behind his ribcage so fast he thinks it might just burst, pulse pounding in his ears; he can barely hear himself moaning over tyler’s high whines and cries as he bounces up and down, seemingly weightless.

josh babbles, hips twitching up in a feeble attempt to match tyler’s ruthless rhythm, sliding up and slamming back down and grinding into josh’s lap. “you look – fuck, _god_ – you look good like that,” he finally manages to wrench out a coherent sentence, scratching his nails up tyler’s side as his voice wobbles and fades into a shaky moan.

tyler laughs, high and breathless, gasping for air and tilting his chin up toward the ceiling. his palms slide over the bloodied lines he’s carved into josh’s otherwise flawless skin, snapping his head back to meet josh’s fluttering eyes, rocking down into his lap. “you _feel_ good, joshie,” he mumbles, voice high-pitched as he struggles to keep it under control. “god, you feel _real_ good.”

he shudders at the praise, wrenching at tyler’s waist and pulling him _hard_ down against his cock, voice cracking as he moans. he feebly thrusts a few more times, hands clenching at tyler’s waist and head thrown back against the pillows.

“c’mon, joshie, come for me,” tyler encourages, rubbing circles into josh’s chest and grinding down into his lap, slamming himself down harder against his dick.

josh whines, the highest noise he’s made all night, toes curling and fingers spasming where they’re clutched at tyler’s hips. and tyler never took him to be this _loud,_ but he’s babbling all sorts of nonsense as his hips twitch up into him a few more times, something about how tyler is pretty and a lot of swearing and panting and a few mixtures of tyler’s name.

tyler wraps a hand around his cock and strokes himself twice before he’s losing it, another pornographic moan ripping out of his throat and dripping past his lips without any sense of hesitation or control. he rides josh’s spent dick through his aftershocks despite josh whimpering from oversensitivity, entire body trembling as he bucks up into his hand.

he runs a hand through his sweat-matted hair, pushing off and gingerly pulling the condom from josh’s dick. josh is quaking against the sheets, sky blue bangs plastered to his forehead from sweat, mouth parted as he pants in air that reeks of sex and sweat. distantly, he registers that family guy is still playing in the background as tyler ties the condom and throws it into the trashcan. perfect shot.

“lucky shot,” josh mumbles again, echoing his words from earlier. tyler scoffs as he leans over josh’s torso and rummages around the floor before finding the pizza box and grabbing a slice; it’s barely warm and makes his stomach turn over slightly but he still bites into it, groaning at the taste flooding his mouth. unbelievably good. he should eat at pizza hut more often.

“are you really eating pizza?” josh questions, pushing his hair up from his forehead.

“sex makes me hungry,” tyler responds simply, shoving the rest in his mouth and swallowing before collapsing against josh’s scratched-up chest. he absently runs a hand over josh’s hip, nuzzling his skin softly.

josh winds his hand through tyler’s damp hair, basking in the afterglow. “i might be a little gay,” he admits to the ceiling, and he can feel tyler’s laugh reverberate through his chest.

“well, i’d hope so. considering how hard i just fucked you.”

“that’s the best orgasm i’ve ever had,” josh continues to embarrass himself.

tyler chuckles again, pressing a kiss to his hip before lifting himself up. “you’re welcome, by the way,” he grins smugly, pecking josh’s lips chastely. “no homo, though.”

“fuck you, tyler.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr - joshlersins


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